All in the Family: Epilogue
by IcarusT
Summary: Conclusion of "All in the Family"


"Didn't expect to see me again, did ya?" Han continued bitterly. "Especially not as one of the family!"  
  
Han kept talking, though his own ears couldn't record his words fast enough. All the fears and nightmares he secretly hid from Leia and the kids erupted within him uncontrolled. And though Anakin took his rant without objection, Han's voice rose as if he were having a heated argument with him.   
  
"You don't know how many nights I've woken up absolutely scared to the ends of my wits, Skywalker. It doesn't matter if it happened 10, 20.... or 50 years ago--"  
  
Han stopped, overwhelmed. He unconsciously wiggled his fingers as they resisted the urge to close into a tight fist. He could feel the heat rise up in his cheeks.  
  
"I--I *fear* you, don't you see??" Han said hoarsely, hating himself as he said it. He knew that in revealing this, he had exposed himself and made himself vulnerable. From the young age he had to fend for himself, Han shielded himself from anything that would crack his fearless facade. He was scared of nothing and as a result, earned himself a reputation. If fists couldn't scare off his opponents, his trusty blaster would--permanently--up until he met that old man Kenobi and the kid, Luke Skywalker. And especially the Princess. Since he crossed paths with them, Han found himself fighting to control what was happening around him. But those days back when the Republic was nothing but a group of die-hard rebels in a ragtag Alliance--Han's life became--if it was possible--dangerous. And that danger was manifested on Cloud City.  
  
The images swarmed again into Han's mind, just as they have been when he had those terrible nightmares. It always started in the same fashion: a door had slid open and then as he turned to look at the 'refreshments' his then traitor friend Lando had offered, Darth Vader appeared out of nowhere and stood up to his full terrifying height. More out of instinctual panic than anything, Han brought his blaster to bear, shooting away. How foolish he must have looked. Didn't he hear the stories--back at the Academy and later in pilot circles and bars--he heard the same thing over and over again: this man was not to be crossed. Dealing with him meant trouble. He could kill you without laying a hand on you. At the time young Han had laughed at them naively.   
  
In truth, he had laughed only to cover up his own feelings about Vader. At the Academy, Han had heard of Vader from fellow cadets as well as from both the junior and senior officers. The cadets spoke of him with respect masked by fear; the officers spoke of Vader with respect masked with a veil of resentment. In his short tenure with the Imperial Navy, Han had learned from his Commanding Officer what most of the senior officers had felt about the new brass named Lord Darth Vader. Because of the old boy network previously established even before the Empire had risen, anyone who was not alumni of the Carida Schools, particularly the Military, Naval, and Intelligence departments at the Academy on Carida, were looked upon with contempt. And since Vader's origins were dubious, his sudden appointment as one of the Emperor's advisors and a man with military command was not generally accepted by the officers--at least behind Vader's back.   
  
But young Han, who had worked very hard to get to the position he was in at the time, had a sort of rough empathy, even a true respect for Lord Vader. As many of the cadets had families with Imperial connections, Han didn't; he often felt left out in their circles and seldom participated in their discussions of the vagueness of Vader's military credentials. But by the time Han was discharged from the Navy, his fellow cadets had made a big 180 degree change in their assessment of the Dark Lord. Rumors of his direct involvement in the New Order's Purge of corrupt Jedi and Republican officials, being both brutally thorough and effective, had scared them into silence.   
  
As Han heard the stories of Vader's 'powers' from other smugglers, privately Han knew Vader's intentions exactly--in a way, Vader was displaying his no nonsense agenda. He wanted everyone, from a Grand Moff down to a first class private to a regular citizen to know it--exactly what Han himself had been doing when he first started out in "freelance cargo delivery," albeit his methods were not as brutal. Han disregarded the magical power part in the tales he heard: any fool with half a working brain could see that Vader's own size and brute strength was the source of his power, not magic. Not that he particularly cared-- there wasn't a real chance that he would happen upon the Dark Lord in his life anyway, right?   
  
It wasn't until he saw his blaster jerked out of his grip by that unseen Force, coming from Darth Vader in a mock of his feeble efforts, that Han felt something inside him he thought he had been immune: fear.   
  
Presently, in his mind, the dream continued. It flashed ahead to his "interrogation," if it could be called that. Han was strapped onto an electroscan grid, and as he cried out in pain, he saw through the slits of his eyes that frightening black image of Lord Vader watching him impassively. There were no questions--Vader had simply stalked out of the room, leaving a screaming Han wondering what the hell was going on.   
  
Of course, the pain of the carbonite was indescribable, but the after effect of it was clear. Any mention of the name Darth Vader, to this day, gave him phantom pain and a severe case of the jitters.   
  
But now the real pain was that the person who had done all this was standing in front of him, not looking anything like the man he hated, and not acting like the horrible Dark Lord he was. He used to be scared of this guy?? The only person in the galaxy that Han Solo feared...was this old man, looking not too unlike his brother-in-law Luke; he even saw where Leia resembled him. He saw the features his children had inherited from him physically, but Han prayed that they did not inherit that one aspect that made this man what he was: the Dark Side.   
  
All of these things had gone through Han's mind in a confused rabble. He desperately wanted this man to know exactly how much pain he had inflicted. But Han was the most inarticulate man there ever was when it came to anything emotional or personal. And he wasn't about to make himself look like an idiot.   
  
Han's fingers wiggled impatiently.   
  
What Han lacked in his verbal expression he made up for in his punch. The distance between the two was small, and it wasn't difficult for Han to cross that distance and make good contact.   
  
The blow was so powerful that Han fell along with Skywalker. Han had fallen on top of him, but quickly rolled off him, busying himself with the throb of pain in his right fist. As he sat up against the nearest chair, rubbing his sore hand, he stole a quick look at Skywalker, staring at the scene unbelievingly. *Where did that come from?* Han thought, frightened at his own feeling and ferocity. Even after all these years, his fists spoke whenever his mind couldn't. He himself didn't even see that coming. That had to be a fine punch...he'd better be ready for Skywalker's anger....  
  
But Skywalker was anything but angry.   
  
Instead, he too sat up. His hand was on his left cheek and lip, but there was a small genuine grin on his face.   
  
"That was a fine clop," he said appraisingly, wincing slightly from the blow. "You certainly earned your reputation."  
  
He removed his hand and already a good size bruise was beginning to surface on his cheek. Han's punch had grazed his left cheek and Skywalker's lip and chin, where blood was oozing from the wound. Han wondered at the fact that even here in this dead man's place the man had blood??   
  
Han didn't reply to Skywalker's comment, only watched him in faint astonishment. Anakin Skywalker stood up slowly, and offered Han his hand.  
  
Han stared at the hand, feeling guilty. Wasn't *he* supposed to help the older man up?  
  
But Han saw Skywalker's outstretched hand as a metaphor of some sort. Han had some difficulty in dealing with the events that had happened to him concerning Vader. Skywalker was here and wanted to help him through it. It was up to Han to accept.   
  
Han Solo looked at his father-in-law for the first time without fear. He accepted Anakin's help and pulled himself up. Han managed a tentative smile.  
  
"Reputation?" Han quipped. "You mean my charming, even-tempered and pleasant personality?"  
  
Anakin laughed a little and the tension broke. Han grabbed a cloth from a nearby basin, soaked it in the water jug, and brought it over. He peered at Anakin's cheek and chin.   
  
"Here, lemme see that wound."  
  
"No, no, there's no need," Anakin protested. "It's only a cut."  
  
"Sir, I insist," Han said firmly. He tore the cloth in two and dabbed the cloth at the cut. Anakin had placed the other half of the cold cloth on the bruise on his cheek. Han was silent while tending the wound. Anakin took the moment to learn about his son-in-law.  
  
"You are a very good man for my daughter," he said after a while.   
  
Han glanced at Anakin, unconvinced. "I'm sure that's exactly what that old man Kenobi told you."  
  
Anakin looked puzzled. "Obi-Wan? I've learned everything about you from him."  
  
"Uh-oh."  
  
"What do you mean uh-oh?"  
  
Han stopped dabbing at the cut for a moment.  
  
"When I first met him, I think he saw me as a good for nothing, selfish smart-ass. And unfortunately, that was the last impression. I honestly don't think he'd fancy me and the Princess of Alderaan, the daughter of a Jedi and a potential Jedi herself, to be married."  
  
After around 5 minutes, Han finished cleaning up the cut. He washed the cloth out and then sat down in the chair next to Anakin, leaning forward so that his elbows and arms were on his thighs. He clasped his hands in between his knees. To Anakin, Han looked a little sheepish, almost like a young man unsure of how to act in front of his girlfriend's father.   
  
"I had to do that," Han said awkwardly, indicating Anakin's wounds.   
Anakin took away the cloth.  
  
"What, this?" The bruise was nasty, swelling up nicely. "I thought you said you had a reputation. You barely even scratched me."  
  
Han allowed himself a small smirk. This man shared his humor. Anakin then leaned forward too, his expression now serious.  
  
"I know what you mean, Solo."  
  
Han frowned. "Come on--"  
  
"No, I really mean that. I was once like you--free, and a little reckless. And I had a temper that I fought so long to check. But you--you had died once, and came back and realized who you really were. You worked very hard to get what you have now. You found out that life was more than money or a reputation. You have a wonderful wife and three good children."  
  
Anakin paused, looking down at his hands.  
  
"I on the other hand, threw it all away. I wanted power, but my only legacy is the lives of the people I have ruined, whether directly or indirectly...including my own son and daughter--and son-in-law."  
  
Han suddenly felt uncomfortable at what he was about to say. "I am afraid that your legacy will return in my children. Am--am I doing the right thing so far?"  
  
"I know that I am in no position to give advice. Still--I want to let you know--your children, my grandchildren, will bear my penance all their lives, just by being strong in the Force. They will be tempted by the Dark Side as long as they are living. But their lives were raised in love--you and Leia's, their uncle Luke's, and the love they have for each other--that will be the key in the important choices they'll make. It will still be hard--but they will have you and each other."  
  
Han nodded, understanding. "This may sound weird, but the fact that they know some direct relation of theirs as having turned himself into Darth Vader may be the biggest impact on them. They know what's gonna happen if they make the wrong decisions."  
  
He sighed. Skywalker looked at his son-in-law intently.  
  
"Han Solo, would you accept my apology for the wrongs I had done to you if I gave it?"  
  
There was a long pause. Han looked back at his father-in-law.  
  
"I already have."  
  
This time, Han Solo offered his hand to Anakin Skywalker, his father-in-law, who readily accepted.   
  
"Thank you," he said with emotion.   
  
"No," Han said, "thank *you*."  
  
**********  
  
  
The next morning, Anakin Solo found his sister outside in a corner of the courtyard, fixing a broken food processor that his father had meant to do, but Jaina obviously put herself to the challenge. It was her signal of her trying to sort things out, her way of thinking things over alone. But Jaina sensed Anakin's presence and she turned, smiling in greeting.  
  
"Hey," she said.   
  
"Hey," Anakin replied. "Am I bothering--?"  
  
"No, no," Jaina said hurriedly, putting down her tools. "I was just doing the diagnostics. This thing can be fixed easily."  
  
Anakin put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.   
  
"Really? He told me not to come near it, though Dad's been trying to fix that for weeks."  
  
She smiled absently at Anakin's comment, but looked unsettled, and Anakin figured it was from what may have happened between their grandfather and their parents.  
  
"What do you think we should do?" Anakin asked, sitting himself down next to his sister.  
  
Jaina wrapped her arms around her legs.  
  
"I honestly don't know, Anakin."  
  
Just then Jacen quietly approached the pair, smiling shyly.  
  
"Hey," he greeted. "Can I join you two?"  
  
"Of course," Jaina replied. Anakin nodded.  
  
"We were just talking about--you know, how we should ask our Mom and Dad about Grandfather," Jaina answered, absently fiddling with a mechanism on the processor. "Any ideas?"  
  
Jacen sat down next to his brother and sister.   
  
"Do you think it went alright?" he asked.  
  
"Can't tell unless we ask," Jaina sighed. "I just don't know how we should, you know, bring it up."  
  
The three sat thinking.  
  
"Well, Mom and Dad aren't going to be up until late today," Anakin said. "They usually sleep late on weekends."  
  
Jaina nodded, considering their options.  
  
"I'll hurry and fix this minor problem," she said, indicating the food processor. "It should be done fast with Anakin here. Jacen, you're a decent cook. Start preparing some food stuffs. When Anakin and I are done here, we'll join you and make brunch."  
  
"Surprise them, that sort of thing?" Jacen asked, catching on.  
  
"Yes, I suppose so," Jaina admitted, "though that kind of makes it sound like we're conspiring to do something--mischevious, even though we're not."  
  
Jacen grinned again, unable to stop himself.  
  
"When was the one time we didn't plan to do anything mischevious?"  
  
Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin laughed.  
  
***********  
  
  
Han and Leia woke up to the smell of something wonderful.  
  
"Han, am I dreaming, or do I smell something good coming from the kitchen?"  
  
Han managed to pull himself up, blinking, not quite awake.  
  
"Threepio cooking something that smells this good?? The kids must have reprogrammed him again."  
  
"Han," Leia said, stifling a yawn. "Our children are not little kids anymore. They're past that stage now."  
  
The two looked at each other and then got out of bed as fast as they could.  
  
***********  
  
  
Jaina was finishing preparing the last touches of the brunch when she heard Anakin's signal that it was about time to wrap up the cooking.  
  
"The bread is done," he said, looking at his sister knowingly.  
  
All three turned around. Jacen started to set the table while Jaina and Anakin brought the dishes of food to the table.  
  
"Good morning," the twins said in unison, while Anakin smiled.  
  
Han and Leia stared at the food and then at the children.  
  
"Wow," Leia said, still staring at the food.   
  
"What's going on?" Han said, helping himself to a chair.   
  
The three looked at each other innocently.  
  
"Nothing, Dad," Jacen answered. By this time the family sat down. "We all just felt like cooking, that's all."  
  
"Oh Dad, I replaced the main power coupling by the transister circuit in the food processor," Jaina said offhandedly, helping herself to some juice.   
  
Han's eyes grew wide.  
  
"You fixed it? Already?"  
  
Jaina shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal, Dad, just some light work I felt like doing."  
  
"Don't spoil your father while you're on holiday, Jaina," Leia said in a stern voice, but her eyes gave away her teasing.  
  
"Yeah, you don't want him to get lazy on us," Jacen said.   
  
"Hey, are you fellas ganging up on your old Dad again?" Han said, trying to sound hurt.  
  
Everybody laughed.  
  
The conversation stopped as everyone ate. To Jacen's surprise, the food, mainly Jaina's recipe, was very good.  
  
"Geez, Jaina, I didn't know you cook this well," he said in between chewing.  
  
"Oh yeah, Jacen," Han said, eyeing everyone else at the table, "Jaina cooked breakfast for me and it was xcellent. I'd promise I'd be her witness."  
  
Jaina eyed her mother. "Mom, I'd be glad to cook you breakfast tomorrow."  
  
Leia smiled. "That's no problem to you, Jaina? Dad and I should cook for you and Jacen--it has been a while since you two had a good meal."  
  
Jaina grinned. "Oh, its no big deal, Mom." And though her reply was aimed at her mother, her mind on another matter.   
  
**Anakin, the breakfast I had with Dad was right before I talked to him about Grandfather.**  
  
Anakin took a bite out of his bread, glancing at Jaina.  
  
**I see where this is headed,** Anakin answered. **Jacen, get ready.**  
  
Jacen, sipping his juice, glanced at Anakin and Jaina around the rim of his glass.  
  
"When did you cook for Dad?" Anakin asked after swallowing his mouthful of bread.  
  
"You were at school, I think, and Jacen was at the office with Mom."  
  
Jacen nodded.   
  
"Oh yeah. I wanted to go see Mom on something--personal."  
  
The three eyed their parents for a reaction. Saw their mother pick up on it fast.   
  
"Yes," she said. "I have a feeling that Jaina's breakfast had something to do with what Jacen and I had talked about?"  
  
The children, all three, nodded in unison.   
  
Han and Leia stared at them.  
  
"All of you?" Han asked, incredulously. "All of you met--him??"  
  
"Yes, Dad," Jaina answered. "He wanted to meet with us all."  
  
The family sat, quiet.  
  
"How did it go?" Han asked his wife solicitously. The twins and Anakin listened intently.  
  
As the meal was almost finished, Leia retold the event truthfully; Han then told his, and then all of the children related their tale.   
  
When Anakin related to the name of their grandmother, Leia gasped.  
  
"Queen Amidala!" she exclaimed. "She was my mother!"  
  
"I've sort of heard of her," Han said. "When I was young, politics wasn't my concern, but if I remember her name, she must have been real important."  
  
Leia sighed, as if remembering an unpleasant memory.  
  
"Bail Organa told me about her fate, only he didn't tell me she was my mother."  
  
Nobody said anything for awhile. Then Leia looked at each of her children.  
  
"Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, I will tell you what I know of her, which isn't much. But I wish your Grandfather would be here to tell you about her, for he knew--knows her best.  
  
"Queen Padme Amidala was the last adolescent monarch of the ill-fated planet of Naboo, a planet that rivaled Alderaan in its rich culture and heritage. Her planet was the center of conflict, as many underground forces wanted to kill her--including her own representative in the Galactic Senate, Senator Palpatine. I don't know much about her relationship to my father, your grandfather, but she died while I was very, very young. The only impression I have is of her beauty and her sadness. Bail said that her death was unexplained--officially she died of grief, but many believed she either committed suicide or was assassinated. Either way, she was in hiding during the Purge. Her life was as tragic as you would want it. Her children torn away from her. Her husband figuratively dead, yet searching for you. That was another thing Bail kept mentioning. Darth Vader was obsessed with finding her, not believing that she was dead. Now I understand, but the more answers I get, the more questions come. I guess we'll never know."  
  
The children sat thinking about what they had just learned in silence. Han stood up, bringing the dishes away, with Leia following. Jacen and Jaina began to help as well but Han and Leia insisted they relax as they had cooked the meal.  
  
*********  
  
Anakin Skywalker walked with Jaina in the gray desert.  
  
"I am grateful for what you and your brothers have done for me, Jaina. Tell Jacen and Anakin that as well."  
  
Jaina smiled. "I will, Grandfather." She sighed. Anakin felt there was something on his granddaughter's mind.  
  
"Is there something on your mind, Jaina?"  
  
Jaina shrugged. "I don't know. I just wish--oh, what's the use."  
  
"What was it?"  
  
"Its--its nothing. It can't be helped."  
  
Anakin thought back to the conversation he had with his daughter, and felt his chest grow tight at the realization   
that he could not help in making her wish come true.  
  
"Jaina?"  
  
"Yes, Grandfather?"  
  
The two stopped their walk, and Anakin bent down so that he was eye to eye with Jaina.  
  
"Jaina, if there was one thing you could wish for, what would it be?"  
  
Jaina looked at her Grandfather's clear blue eyes, surprised at his request.  
  
"I wish--" Jaina blinked repeatedly. Anakin gently put Jaina's hair behind her ear so that he could see her face.   
  
"I wish--and I do believe my brothers, as well as Mom and Uncle Luke, would agree--to see a real vestige of our past. You and Grandmother."  
  
Anakin smiled. He could grant this one in his daughter's name.  
  
"I have a secret to tell you, Jaina...."  
  
*********  
  
  
"Find anything?" Jacen asked, his voice hopeful. Anakin stood next to him, leaning forward and reading the data off of the computer console at the Galactic Census Archive. Jaina had gone to the Census Archive herself while Jacen went to pick up Anakin from school, and she looked elated.  
  
"There seems to be light at the end of the tunnel," Jaina said, impatiently. "Take a look at this."  
  
On the screen came up a window that prompted them to type a password. Jaina indicated the screen with smiling eyes.  
  
"Just guess what the password is."  
  
The boys looked at her, perplexed.  
  
"You figured it out, Jaina?" Anakin asked.  
  
Jaina said nothing, only grinned. She answered by typing, 'luke and leia.'  
  
Jacen was the first to protest. "What?"  
  
"Don't you see?" Jaina explained, excitement plain in her voice. "Our grandparents must have talked it over. I mean, the issue about children. You know, if it were a boy, we'd name him this, or if it were a girl, we'd name her that. At the time, it was probably a matter of when. They didn't realize that, you know, there were going to be twins, and--" Jaina let the sentence end.   
  
Jacen said, "Well, uh, how did *you* figure out that--"  
  
"I didn't. Grandfather told me." admitted Jaina. "I had been trying all sorts of words, but I had been focusing on the wrong thing--"  
  
Jacen interrupted. "You mean you were thinking what Darth Vader would use as a password--"  
  
"And not what Anakin Skywalker would use as a password, right!" Jaina finished. The twins grinned at each other. Anakin only rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ooo-kay," he muttered. "So, anyway, what's so secret?"  
  
Jaina gave Anakin an irritated stare and then turned back to the screen.  
  
"Don't know. I waited until you and Jacen were here first." She licked her lips as she pressed the 'enter' key. "Here goes nothing."  
  
Only a simple hand scrawled diagram appeared on the screen, manually scanned in around 30 years ago.   
  
Anakin sighed. "That looks like a map."  
  
"Print it out," Jacen suggested.   
  
"Wait a minute," Jaina murmured. "This looks like a regular blueprint for a warehouse, or a hangar. I had to learn how to read one so that I could land the *Rock Dragon*--"  
  
"So, its a blueprint for a warehouse," Jacen interrupted, not interested in Jaina's exploits in piloting. "How can we tell where it is?"  
  
"Right here," she said, pointing out the serial numbers.   
  
"Race you to the airbus stop!" Anakin said, snatching the printout and running out of the building.  
  
*********  
  
"This place looks like nobody's been here since--"  
  
No one volunteered to finish Jaina's comment. The warehouse, a small, nondescript and unremarkable square box of a building, had no windows and one durasteel door and encoded locks. Anakin grinned as he expertly 'hotwired' the door to open without blowing the building up, as it was programmed to do.  
  
Once inside, the three were surprised at how sparse the interior was. The room was bare except for a dusty, Old Republican-dated computer console at one corner of the room, a communication console, a holoprojector, and a few miscellaneous items. One of which was an large, old, silver chest that was embroidered with what appeared to be a royal crest of some kind. Jacen and Anakin could barely lug the trunk to the middle of the spartan room, and Jaina carefully brushed off the dust. For a minute, no one dared move any closer to the chest. Jacen cleared his throat as he looked at Jaina.  
  
"Will you?"  
  
Jaina flushed and hesitated. Anakin nodded as he knelt and touched the chest reverently.  
  
"You're the oldest, Jaina," Anakin said quietly, "Will you open the chest?" He also cleared his throat. "He'd probably would want you to open it."  
  
Jaina smiled gratefully at her brothers, and then slowly knelt down and unsnapped the lock. She heaved the top of the chest up. The scent that rose from the chest was an old, musty smell, like something from a museum.   
  
"This is Amidala's chest," she said. "He took it for--safekeeping."  
  
Staring at them in their faces was the answer to their search of their roots, their heritage.  
  
The three beheld the picture of their grandmother. To their surprise it was a wedding picture. It was a personalized picture, with the "Anakin and Amidala" as a caption, dated nearly 30 years ago. She was beautiful: dark-haired, large dark eyes, distinct features. Her husband was just as handsome, in a military uniform. The two were not looking at the holocam when the picture was taken, but looking at each other, laughing--a very happy moment. It was obvious that the picture was not posed, but taken naturally. This picture was heavily creased as if it had been handled many times.  
  
"She's beautiful," Jacen whispered. "Isn't she?"  
  
"She looks alot like Anakin," Jaina remarked, staring at her younger brother with new eyes. Anakin blushed fiercely.  
  
"Look," he said hoarsely, directing her gaze back to the trunk contents. "There's more pictures."  
  
Next was an official photograph of the wedding, with both Anakin and Amidala in their royal gowns. The caption read: Her Royal Highness and Majesty, Queen Padme Nabierre Amidala of the Soveigrn Planet of Naboo weds Consort, His Highness Prince and Commander Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. Amidala wore her family crest and crown, a hairpiece in the shape of horns with the family crest displayed prominently in the middle of her headpiece. Her face, framed by many beaded strands, was painted white. There was two black specks on her cheeks; her upper lip was painted a dark maroon, and only a small speck of her bottom lip was colored. In dark blue princely attire, Anakin stood proud next to his wife.   
  
Jaina beheld a newsreel in black and white--a sad, serious picture from a news show, with the caption reading "Death of Queen marks end of the Naboo Dynasty" with the subtitle mentioning the death of her husband, Jedi Knight Clone War hero Anakin Skywalker. Other pictures followed. One was a close-up with Anakin, Amidala, and Obi-Wan; Anakin was around nine, wearing Padawan robes, his hair freshly shorn and a braid behind his right ear; Amidala around fourteen in common clothes, with her face unpainted and her expression cheerful; Obi-Wan also smiling, though more subdued; his hair was still in a Padawan style only without the braid, and his face was smooth. Amidala had her face next to Anakin's cherubic one; Obi-Wan's was on the other side of Anakin's. It occurred to Jaina that Obi-Wan had spoken to her looking like that, fresh from his appointment as a Jedi Knight.   
  
Jacen pulled out a photo of Obi-Wan and Anakin a couple of years later, with Anakin to be around sixteen. He had grown taller, thinner, and his blond hair was still closely cropped, and the beginnings of his good looks were apparent. He was standing with his hands behind his back beside a sitting Obi-Wan. The last color picture was also from the wedding, only it was a large official group photo, with Jedi attendees, royal dignataries, Senators, and aliens too. Finally, there was one photo of Anakin's mother. The picture was so faded that the woman's features could barely be distinguished. The only reason the children thought it was their great-grandmother was because on the back there was a scribble of a name by a feminine hand 'Shmi Skywalker.'   
  
There were other contents in the chest as well. Letters, keepsakes. Jaina beheld a pendant of some sort, an intricately carved japor snippet. It looked worn, but it still had the faint smell of perfume.   
  
The last content of the chest was something none of them were expecting.  
  
"Wow," Jaina gasped. "Look at this!"  
  
There were two identical locket necklaces, and on opening, both showed two pencil sketches, one of Amidala and one of Anakin, in black and white. It seemed that one necklace was Amidala's, and the other one, Anakin's.   
  
Anakin held Amidala's up to the dim light and was admiring it when the elder Anakin's picture slipped out of its frame.  
  
"Oops," he said, quickly retrieving it. But on putting it back, sucked in a quick breath.  
  
A small sketch of a young girl, was hiding behind where Anakin's picture was.  
  
"That's Mom!" Jacen exclaimed. "That's Mom when she was a girl."  
  
Anakin carefully slid Amidala's picture away and beheld a small sketch of a young boy.  
  
"Uncle Luke," Jaina said. "Check the other necklace."  
  
Grandfather's necklace did not have those pictures.   
  
"Perhaps this was the only way our Grandmother kept in touch with her children after Grandfather turned--without him knowing--" Jacen said. For a while, no one said anything.   
  
"Well," Jaina sighed, slowly placing the contents back into the chest. "Let's bring this home so we can show this to Mom, Dad, and Uncle Luke."  
  
"Its almost dinner time already!" Jacen said, surprised at how much time they had spent in that warehouse, and feeling hungry.   
  
Anakin said, "Its only been 3 hours, but really, we've just been through 30 years of history."  
  
Jacen tried to pick up the chest by himself and nearly fell over backwards.  
  
"Almost too heavy."  
  
Anakin and Jaina had righted their brother up and each taken a hold of the chest.  
  
Anakin smiled at his sister Jaina and brother Jacen.   
  
"Not for the three of us."  
  
********  
  
  
Later that night, Jaina was in her room alone, feeling a little guilty at her subterfuge.   
  
She had left the letters in the trunk alone, and her brothers seemed more interested in the photographs than in reading faded, old letters. But Jaina felt that her grandmother would have kept them in the trunk for a reason, and that her grandfather evidently treasured them as much as his wife, for, as many of the pictures of Amidala were faded from exposure, the letters were creased from being read and reread time and again. She looked upon one of the letters and opened it gingerly. The handwriting was fine and neat, but troubled. The lettering, though fine, was written with passion, evident in the hastiness and gaps in between the sentences. The first three lines immediately gave Jaina the conclusion that the letter was written *after* Amidala had disappeared, and *after* Anakin had turned to the Darkside--  
  
My Dear Amidala,  
  
You were the sunshine, Padme, whenever you smiled; but not it's stormy today. All of a sudden that old rain's falling down, and my world is cloudy and gray; you've gone away. Oh Padme, bring back that sunny day.  
  
Yesterday's love was like a warm, summer breeze; but like the weather, it changed. Now things are dreary, and it's windy and cold. And I stand alone in the rain, calling your name.   
  
Today, I saw somebody who looked just like you; she walked like you do; I thought it was you. As she turned the corner, I called out your name--I felt so ashamed because it wasn't you. Wasn't you!  
  
How can I forget, when each face that I see brings back memories of being with you? I just can't go on feeling like as I do, comparing everyone to you, knowing they just won't do--  
they're not you.   
  
Jaina closed the letter suddenly, as if she had read something forbidden. Inside, she felt that was her grandfather, as Vader, longing for his wife, her grandmother. She closed her eyes. Grandfather, will you ever see her again? She wanted to ask for another wish, something she genuinely wanted.   
  
"You alright, Jaina?"  
  
Anakin, as usual, slipped by unnoticed through her door. He looked at her with concern.  
  
Jaina only looked at her brother and shrugged.   
  
"Here," she only said, handing over the letter.   
  
When Anakin finished reading the letter, Jaina looked at his face for a reaction, and saw that his face was tight. He handed the letter back to her, and sighed.  
  
"You know, Jaina, they were meant to be together. Eventually, they will be."  
  
"Eventually," Jaina repeated quietly.  
  
********  
  
Anakin Skywalker walked again in the desert. He was happier than usual, as the reunion with his children and grandchildren have given him comfort. But suddenly, he felt restless. Something pushed him out into this damn misty gray desert once again. He searched for the reason of his unrest, and was about to give up when someone walked out of the mist.  
  
*She* stopped as soon as he saw her. His heart leaped with both shock and excitement. Seconds passed before Anakin dared to call out to her.  
  
"Padme?"   
  
Amidala smiled, and the gray desert slowly lost its dreary setting, as the sun came out, shining. Though she wore a simple garmet, her simple smile was so radiant to Anakin.  
  
"Are you truly here, Padme?"  
  
The two slowly approached each other until their hands touched, palm to palm, clasped together.  
  
"Yes, Ani, I'm truly here. With you."  
  
Anakin only gazed at his wife. He had not seen her for thirty years. And then Padme broke his gaze and kissed him. The kiss was passionate, but Anakin broke it, as sobs caught his throat. He leaned against her forehead, weeping.  
  
"Is this only a dream, mocking me with your memory when I wake?"  
  
Padme's heart ached at the pain he must have endured. She compassionately caressed his cheek, and slowly, the lines of pain and age disappeared from Anakin's gentle yet careworn face. His hair lost its gray--his ice-blue eyes lost their haunted gaze and regained their youthful sparkle. He was once again the young man she loved.  
  
"Do not weep, Anakin. You are now free. *We* are now free."  
  
She kissed away his tears. He looked at her now, with new eyes.  
  
"Come with me, Anakin," Padme said, taking his hand.   
  
Anakin nodded solemnly, but before he took that first step, he knelt, placing his head to the ground.   
  
"Thank you, Jaina, Anakin, Jacen, from the bottom of my heart."  
  
"You're very welcome, Grandfather."  
  
Anakin looked up at his three grandchildren, standing there smiling.  
  
Jacen helped him up and took his hand firmly.  
  
"Goodbye, Grandfather." Jacen looked at his Grandmother and smiled. But he said nothing else as he slowly turned around and disappeared.  
  
Young Anakin bent and kissed his Grandmother's hand. She brushed his hair. Anakin looked at his Grandfather, blinked rapidly as if to hold tears, but then smiled radiantly. He too turned around and disappeared as he walked away.  
  
Jaina gave her Grandmother a long hug. She turned to her Grandfather. He hugged her tightly and kissed her lightly on her brow. Then she stood back, looking at them for the last time. She too turned around disappeared into the mists of the Force.  
  
Anakin's face became as brilliant as the sun, as did Amidala's. He took her hand and walked together with Padme. The light encompassed the darkness and the dullness that was the desert...it became no more.  
  
  
  



End file.
